lupine
by volian
Summary: The origin of the 'Cloudy Wolf', and what it and Aeris' flowers symbolize. Takes place about one year before Advent Children, may contain Advent Children spoilers. Oneshot, gen.


LUPINE  
_fanfic by volly  
final fantasy vii (c) square enix_

... 

It was there again. Cloud parked his motorcycle a bit farther off than before, hoping that the mechanical growl of the vehicle wouldn't scare it away. It didn't seem to be very impressed with the bike, however, and spared the machine only a dismissive glance before swinging its amused gaze to Cloud himself.

A wolf. A large, shaggy, silver-furred beast with dark eyes and tufted ears. A magnificent, but vaguely intimidating prescence, especially when it seemed to hover around the memorial so often. Cloud momentarily regarded the Buster sword standing in the soil behind the creature and sighed. "Well, as long as you don't cut yourself, do as you'd like."

A swish of the tail. Cloud smiled as the entity refused to move, and met his pale stare with its own. What a fearless animal. "Of course," he muttered, slowly stepping closer, his footfalls silent even with the heavy combat boots he wore, "if you dare to leave your droppings here, you'll have to answer to me." it felt strange, talking so lightly to an animal, but when the wolf's jaws parted in what Cloud fancied might be the canine equivalent of a laugh, the swordsman couldn't help but grin. If Zack could see him now...

The smile evaporated and he shrugged when the wolf seemed to sense his change of emotion and rose from its comfortable sprawl at the Buster's rusted blade. For a second it regarded Cloud further before it swung away, lanky form breaking into a casual lope that carried it swiftly into the hills of the wasteland and out of sight. And Cloud was left staring at the bed of flowers where a wolf once lay so lazily at the sword of a fallen SOLDIER.

He wondered if he did something wrong by chasing the beast off. It did seem rather...native to the scene. As if it belonged there.

"Whatever," Cloud's gaze dropped to the blossoms sitting at the Buster's foot. They were coated with a thin layer of desert sand, but underneath the ex-SOLDIER could see that the petals were dressed in vibrant yellow hues. He bent, plucking one of the flowers from its stem and rolling it between gloved fingers, frowning slightly.

He'd never left flowers at the memorial. Doing so would make it feel too much like a grave, and Zack wasn't dead. He lived, still, in Cloud. How else could Cloud Strife, a miserable nobody, thwart Sephiroth, the legendary SOLDIER general? Cloud had lived as Zack for awhile, but even after Tifa rediscovered his true identity, there were still scraps of Zack floated around that refused to release him.

Flowers. They looked almost like the ones growing in Aeris' church, actually. And, now that Cloud thought about it, Aeris' church and Zack's memorial were the only two places flowers grew nowadays. Flora had been depressingly rare ever since Holy had absorbed so much Lifestream to prevent Meteor. Not to mention that vegetation in the wastelands were nonexistant, anyways.

Cloud laughed dryly, crushing the bloom in his fist. "Yeah, Zack, I bet you're pleased. A wolf and Aeris' flowers haunting your memorial. Makes you feel special, doesn't it?"

Special, like how everyone was treating Cloud. It depressed him to no end. People were so ignorant, and the swordsman hated to be seen as the hero, when really it was with the help of so many others that the Planet was saved. But in the eyes of the public, it was just him.

It was ironic how just four years ago, Cloud Strife was no one, a ShinRa grunt who couldn't even pass the finals.

"I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you," he admitted, flicking a few peeling shreds of rust from the sword's blade. "Did you know, Zack? I'd decided to live for your sake in the first place." Because it would just be too selfish to kill himself when someone had already died for his sake. Cloud sighed, rubbing the still familiar handle of Zack's weapon. "But it's not very easy."

A twinge in his arm. Cloud grimaced as Geostigma latched onto and echoed the pain, sending spikes of jarring heat up his inflamed limb. He clasped his forearm, which was now sweating black ichor so profusedly it looked like it was bleeding. Pain lanced up his body, momentarily blinding the ex-SOLDIER so that he had to close his eyes, gritting his teeth as he dug his fingers into his own arm, as if he was planning to rip it off to be rid of the agony.

And then, suddenly, the seizure was over and Cloud found himself kneeling in front of the Buster's mottled edge like a priest would grovel in front of an altar. When did he fall? A hiss escaped his lips as he pushed himself upright and slowly removed his hand from his arm, staring in disgust at the slimy stains that now adorned his glove. The liquid dripped down his wrist, carving ebony patterns down to his elbow.

He didn't have any bandages. The realization slammed into him like a brick and Cloud cursed softly. It had grown to be a ritual, going to Zack's memorial--everytime he was there, he would inevitably be assaulted by Geostigma, for some reason--but this was the first time he had actually forgotten to bring a tourniquet for his new wounds. Careless.

He'd have to drop by Aeris' church to pick them up, then, before resuming his delivery service.

Absently, with his uninfected arm, he brushed off his clothes, watching flower petals fall with the desert dust. Hm. He must've crushed some when he fell. Scooping one such beheaded blossom from its floating descent, he scrutinized it wearily before, on a whim, tucking it away into a pocket.

It should be about time to go. Cloud tipped his head upwards. The sky was bathed in its usual dusty blue hues, dappled in its usual wisps of iron-gray clouds. The blush surrounding the crimson sun promised a swift arrival of another icy autumn night, however, and Cloud shrugged on the trenchcoat he'd hung over one of the arms of his motorbike. Maybe if he was quick enough he'd be able to evade Tifa's unavoidable invitation to dinner after he finished his last delivery for the day. Key word being maybe--the woman was very persistant, and somehow she always knew where to find Cloud, try as he might to avoid any companionship whatsoever.

The wolf returned, effortlessly cresting the hill of Zack's memorial and gazing down at Cloud with an unmistakeable "oh, good, you're finally leaving" expression on its face. Or so it seemed to Cloud. He smirked at the stubborn beast as he snapped on his goggles, flicking a blond bang out of his visage. "Yeah? You're annoying, too. Would you believe me if I said I'm glad to leave?"

The wolf shook his head. Perhaps it was shooing away a fly? Cloud dismissed the oddly human gesture and started up his motorcycle. Animals can't understand him, no matter how intelligent this particular specimen was.

By the time he'd reached Aeris' church, his home of sorts, the wolf was already far from his mind. Dismounting smoothly from his ride, he leaned it against a random buttress and entered the building.

Granted, it wasn't what you would call the most comfortable place to live in. Because it was located in the SOLDIER district of the city, where Meteor had been concentrated on most, a good portion of the structure was ruined, and a full half of the roof had actually fallen in at one point. While this made sleeping in the area a bit chilly, it also allowed for a lovely view of the night sky.

The rubble had also cleared much of the stony ground away, revealing the soil understructure of the church. It hadn't stayed mere dirt for long, though--shortly after Cloud had discovered the place and cleaned up the majority of the ruin lying about, flowers had sprung up. They were delicate but smelled sweet, and were of a cheerful shade of gold. The same as Zack's, Cloud realized sudddenly. As he'd just returned from the memorial, the swordsman could finally see how strikingly similar the two groves of flowers actually were. They were identical, really, from the shape of their slender leaves to the chocobo-yellow hues of their petals.

Tearing his gaze from the enchanting sight of Aeris' blooms, Cloud strode briskly to a particularly shady corner of the building, where he kept his belongings. They were hidden in an underground compartment. Tifa didn't know that Cloud actually slept here--though it was known that Aeris' church was a frequent haunt of Cloud Strife's--and if she ever did find out that her friend spent his nights here instead of in a comfortable hotel like she'd imagined, she would have a field day.

Swinging his elaborate six-sectioned sword down from its position strapped against his back, Cloud detached the thinnest piece from the rest of the weapon and inserted the blade carefully into the specialized chink between two of the flagstones layering the floor. Like a key, the blade sank neatly into the crevice, and Cloud prised the tile off of the ground to reveal the storage chamber underneath. Where were his bandages again?

Ah. There. A roll of gauze. Cloud ripped off a lengthy segment and tied it securely around his diseased forearm, effectly hiding all traces of Geostigma from sight. Experimentally he flexed his limb and watched in stoic satisfaction as the fabric adjusted nicely to the movement.

To be honest, Cloud hated the bandages more than anything. They symbolized uncertainty and weakness beneath its innocent whiteness. True, they did shield the ugly scarring Geostigma left behind from sight, but a person looking upon the touniquet could just as good as guess that Cloud was the victim of the disease anyways. Perhaps that was why Cloud always kept his trenchcoat on; if anyone--especially Tifa--suspected that he had Geostigma, they'd freak.

Besides, he could take care of himself. It was why he visited Zack's memorial so often. He would fight Geostigma, and he would do it alone.

Bandages in place, the ex-SOLDIER deftly replaced the tablet covering his posessions, coughing a bit as the stone crashed heavily back into position and throwing up a light wave of dust as it did so. Irritably Cloud pulled the sleeve of his annoyingly gothic trenchcoat over his bandages and started back towards his motorbike, back to his last delivery of the long day.

It would be an understatement to say that people treated Cloud Strife differently than they would their average delivery person. Then again, he was the savior of the Planet in their eyes, so, really, he should have by now grown used to the countless offers of dinner and extravagant tips. However, the invitations never failed in irking the swordsman, and sometimes he just wanted to slice off the faces of a few of his more zealous customers. He did not want this. He was not a hero. Why didn't people see that he just wanted to do his job and leave him alone?

"Please, Mr. Strife, my husband has just ordered a particularly exotic roast of chocobo from Costa Del Sol, surely you're able to stay? We promise it'll be a feast fit for the President himself!" the woman was relentless. Her painted talons clung to Cloud's arm--the uninfected one, thank the gods--so tightly Cloud couldn't help but wince. When will these people just learn?

"Not interested," he growled out as civilly as he could, prying her forcibly away and ignoring her clucks of incredulity. "Thanks for the offer, but I must fly..."

"Really now!" the young woman exclaimed, diving forwards in another attempt to seize and drag the reluctant delivery man into her lair. "I insist! You'll--"

But Cloud was already gone, having slammed her door pointedly in the lady's face. With a sigh of relief at having successfully escaped yet another invitation for dinner, he hurried into the streets, skillfully avoiding the other pedestrians that bustled in and out of downtown Midgar. Where did he park his motorcycle again?

Someone collided with his legs and Cloud nearly stumbled over a stranger almost half the size of the curt businessmen traversing the boulevards. He picked himself up with the speed and grace of practice, however, and whirled to offer his apologies to the other.

A child. A petite, slender girl of about age 8, clutching the arm of a plumply stuffed moogle. Cloud smiled--children had always been a notorious weakness of his--and knelt, holding a hand to the girl, who'd been knocked to the ground upon collision. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Y--yeah," the youngster stuttered, clinging still tightly to her frayed toy. "I'm sorry! I was going home and I guess--I mean, I didn't see...there were..." she sputtered over her words, burning with the eternal childish humiliation of having knocked right into a grown-up stranger out in the streets. Cloud shrugged and tugged her to her feet, chuckling in amusement at the squeak the girl emitted upon being hauled up so.

"It's alright. Were you running from someone?" he inquired, taking note of her mussed pigtails and flushed apperance. She looked every bit the embarrassed victim caught in the act.

"N...no!" she denied indignantly. Cloud arched a brow.

"Hn. Well, the city's rather dangerous at this time of night. Would you mind if I walked you home?" actually, dusk had just fell and the streetlamps had just flickered on, but the safety of children was always a priority.

The child considered this for a moment. "Uhm. Okay, then. It's not far from here, actually." Brightening at her decision, a childish, carefree grin started to stretch her pale lips. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks a lot, mister...?"

Ah. She didn't recognize him? Cloud grinned, taking her proffered hand in his larger one. Another reason why he adored children so--their blissful ignorance, in which they could almost always be relied on to, for once, treat him like they would any other human being. "You can call me Cloud," he answered, following her as the child began to lead the way onwards.

"Cloud? That's a weird name!" a girlish giggle. "But it's pretty. I like it. Hey, I think I know a person named Cloud--"

They passed the beam of a streetlight and Cloud unwillingly flinched as it illuminated a dark, familiar mark on the girl's throat. He cut off her rambling. "Do you have Geostigma?"

The girl blinked up at him cautiously, hugging her plush moogle to her chest. "Yeah. I do. Why, mister Cloud?"

It was always painful to see a child inflicted with Geostigma. They were mere kids, with their whole life still ahead of them, but Geostigma was fatal and to have all these little lives extinguished like candles in a wind...Cloud sighed, shrugging one shoulder sadly. "No real reason. It must hurt a lot. You're very brave."

She stared up at him like he had suddenly grown a wing. "No! No, I'm not. And it does hurt a lot. But I'm not brave--I was always very scared. Mum and my brothers are the ones who help me--otherwise I would've died a long time ago!"

"...what?"

"Yeah. They help me a lot--they hug me and comfort me everytime Geostigma attacks, and Mum always cleans up the black blood and tells me she's always there to fight with me. See, that's what she says--with Geostigma, you just can't face it alone--those're her words."

"Indeed?" the bandgaes chafted against his raw skin, and Cloud exmined the Geostigma pockmarks that glared out so vividly, so nakedly and fearlessly from the girl's neck, ebony patterns so similar to his own. You couldn't fight Geostigma alone, was it?

Then again, she was an 8-year-old girl, and he was a full 23-year-old ex-SOLDIER. And yet...?

"Couldn't have gotten by without them!" the child insisted, her other hand curling around the moogle's stomach. "See, they even gave me Lini, my Mog, to help fight with me when they're not there. Hehe--it's nice of them, huh? Lini's been a lot of help, too."

"Hm."

"Oh look--we're here." the girl paused in front of a cramped shanty and released Cloud's gloved hand before bouncing up to the door, Lini swinging precariously from one fist. "Hey, thanks a lot for walking me here, mister Cloud! Wait a minute--I think I know how to thank you..." with a cryptic laugh, the child ducked into her home. Cloud leaned against a streetlamp, glancing down at the pavement cracks and just wondering...

The door slammed open again just a few minutes later and the girl exited, something metallic glittering in her small, clenched fist. "Here!" prancing right up to the swordsman, she proudly shoved several objects into his hand, a shamelessly cheerful grin on her face. Cloud glanced down at his opened palm.

Three silver objects winked up at him. A pin, an earring, and a ring. All were elaborately carved in the vaguely Ancient style, and all bore a common insignia of a snarling wolf. They were beautiful, elegant works of art, and he gazed at them in open admiration. "Who made these?"

"My dad. He doesn't see me much--he's a metalworker for ShinRa--but he made these for me so that I'd know he'll always be there." she tugged a bit on Lini's pom-pom, eyes turning suddenly solemn. "But I think you should have them. I have a lot of people helping me already, but you look so lonely and sad."

"I do?"

"Mmhm. Can't fight Geostigma alone--can't fight anything alone, actually." she laughed. "You should know that there's always someone there for you. Me. And the wolf." she tapped the dog-like muzzle of the silver creature for emphasis. Cloud flinched as an image rose unbidden to mind, a wolf the color of chrome lying in a bed of golden flowers, silhouetted against Zack's Buster blade.

"Oh--thank you. Wait, don't go. I've something for you, too." Cloud rummaged in his pockets. The trinkets were lovely, and he shoved several hundred gil into the surprised child's hands. "For the wolves. They're really very nice. Your father is an expert artist. The money's also for your Geostigma--maybe you're right. Keep fighting it."

"Th--thank you!" she gasped. She'd probably never seen so much gil in her life, much less dumped right into her hands. This was simply the usual amount Cloud received for a normal delivery; despite his protests, all of his customers insisted on overpaying him, especially the females. But suddenly he wished he had more for the child who was sure to die before she ever reached her teenage years. "Wow! Thanks so much--hey, is this from you too?" she indicated the half-crushed flower Cloud had picked from Zack's memorial, which was now lying neatly atop her heap of gold.

"Uhm...yes." Cloud had given Marlene a flower once. How was this any different? But the girl beamed, unexpectedly, even more so than when Cloud had given her the gold.

"That's great! Now I'll have something to remember you with." she sniffed at the small blossom--her arms were too preoccupied with the task of keeping a hold on both her moogle doll and on her new treasure hoard of gil. "I think it's a lupine flower, isn't it? It's very beautiful--spiky and golden, just like your hair. Heh." with another grin, the girl flounced away, off to the door of her house. "Bye, mister Cloud. Thanks again!"

"Bye." but the child was already gone. Cloud toyed with the jewels in his palm, bouncing the platinum objects around before turning and heading back home.

Nighttime in Aeris' church was very peaceful. The SOLDIER district was far more abandoned than the Slums or any of the other residential zones of Midgar, and Cloud enjoyed the solitude and perfect tranquillity of the scene as he lay in the field of lupines, head tipped to the sky, trenchcoat spread in a blanket underneath his body, wolf items clasped in one ungloved fist. They were pleasantly cool to the touch, and glimmered like mercury in the moonlight.

Wolves were always seen as reclusive animals, weren't they? Wouldn't they rather fight their own problems by themselves? Ah--wolves hunted in packs. Cloud bit his lower lip, losing himself in the harsh artistic grace the shadows created as it played on the wolf's ruggedly-carved face. Perhaps a wolf couldn't really get by without the aid of its teammates. Perhaps one couldn't fight Geostigma alone.

And yet the wolf who haunted Zack's memorial so often was always so reclusive. Cloud felt a pang of pity for the animal. Why was it so lonely?

Why was he?

The swordsman sighed and tucked his new possessions into a pocket, closing his eyes as he willed himself asleep. Maybe one day he'll grow to seek companionship again. But for now this was his fight, and he was going to face Geostigma, his own predicament, by himself. Another day was yet to come, another day of embarrassing deliveries and schemes for avoiding Tifa and painful tests at the memorial. Another day was yet to come, and he would approach it alone, like Zack's wolf would be expected to. It always was so solitary--maybe that was why it seemed so strangely happy to see Cloud at times. But it would probably, one day, find enough strength to leave the memorial and find its pack, find its place out in the world.

Maybe it would be on that day that Cloud, too, would summon up the strength necessary to seek friendship again.

...

notes: had this fic idea in mind for quite some time. and yes, i did realize that i seem to have made cloud a bit pedophilic--apologizes, he really isn't meant to be so. and, also, i know that the moogledoll!girl in advent children has the majority of geostigma on her arm, but she also has a bit on her neck; if you go to the healing rain scene, you'll see green sparkles on her neck where the geostigma is being cured. lastly, i know very well that the flowers in advent children do not look at all like lupines--if they look like anything, they look like lilies, or perhaps tulips. but i chose lupines because they relate flowers (aeris) to the wolf (zack) and because i am a whore for symbolism. and, fine, i'll admit that i also chose them because i like them. yay.


End file.
